


When Angels Burn

by skyemaxwell



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Supernatural
Genre: AU, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Hunger Games AU, M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, multiple character deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:09:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyemaxwell/pseuds/skyemaxwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Hunger Games AU. </p><p>After the Apocalypse, Angels have descended on earth. It is the 75th Hunger Games and Panem, the Civitatem Angelorum has decided to enter its own tributes in a fight to the death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prequel

**Author's Note:**

> First foray into a Supernatural fic. Been a while since I last wrote and so definitely rusty. Still, I wanted a Supernatural AU and so why not write one myself? 
> 
> Multiple Character Deaths because this is Supernatural and eventually, everyone dies. 
> 
> Cheers!

 

 

**Year 2087, District 12**

 

 

“Samuel Winchester.”

I felt my breath catch. No. It couldn't be.

To my right, a boy flinched away from me like he was burned. I could hear the murmur of dismay from the crowd. Sam was young—barely 16—so very young. He wouldn’t survive one minute.

“Samuel Winchester? Come on up, darling.”

A wave parted among the group of sixteens and I desperately searched for Sammy’s face—there—pale as a ghost and walking shakily towards the stage.

“Sam!” I shouted. “Sammy!”

The peacekeepers grabbed me, holding me back but all I could see was Sam’s frightened face. I punched one in the face and kicked another, desperately trying to get to him.

"I volunteer!” I screamed hoarsely as a gun was shoved to my face. “I volunteer as tribute!”

Deathly silence hung over the square. The gun was still pointed at me. Becky Rosen, the escort who presided over the reaping, cleared her throat and the sound echoed loudly over the speakers.

“Well, look at that! We have a volunteer! Step up, step up! Oh, let him go.”

I stoned my features and marched mechanically towards the stage. Sam grabbed onto me, tear-faced and hysterical, screaming for me not to go.

“Let go, Sam,” I said roughly and then Jo was there, grabbing Sam and dragging him to safety.

“Go on, Dean.” she murmured.

I walked up the stage and glanced at Lisa Braeden, who was crying in her place. She had been the first to be reaped.

“Isn't this exciting?” Becky said brightly. “District 12’s very first volunteer! Let’s have a round of applause shall we?”

Nobody dared move. I stared straight ahead, aware that my face was now being broadcast on every screen across Panem. I could still hear Sam screaming. I gritted my teeth and tried to block everything.

“Well, that concludes today’s reaping. Happy Hunger Games everyone! And may the odds be EVER in your favor!”

I let myself be marched away from the stage, escorted by armed peacekeepers. Lisa was beside me, hiccuping into her hands. I knew her, not intimately, but we were in the same class for a while in school. As we entered the dark into the mechanical doors, I took her hand.

“We’re going to be okay.”


	2. The Reaping

**

 

I took shallow, measured breaths, crouched within the shadows of the trees, poised to shoot. A young deer was grazing by the shallow strip of the stream.

I tightened my finger on the trigger when suddenly there was a sound of twigs snapping and the deer was gone.

“Damn it!”

Jo’s pealing laughter greeted me from behind.

“Like you would know what to do with that deer.”

“I’d sell it.” I replied, annoyed.

“Nobody would buy it.” Jo said knowingly, handing me a loaf of bread.

“Where did you get this?” I sniffed at it suspiciously. Baked goods were a luxury not many could afford in District 12.

“Stole it.” Jo rolled her eyes. “It cost me a squirrel but the Baker practically gave it to me. Today’s the Reaping, after all.”

“And may the odds be ever in your favor,” I said wryly, mimicking the heavy accent of the Capitol. “Don’t remind me, Sam’s been having nightmares for days.”

“Oh yeah?” Jo chewed on her bread. “Didn’t know Sammy was the crying type.”

“You kidding? He’s some kind of princess.” I heard the fondness in my own voice. “Anyway, you got something to wear later?”

We made our way back to the fence. The ‘fence’ is actually a wall of live wires surrounding the entire district, built to keep wild animals away and to keep us in. Dad was the one who found the hole, a small area that was broken off, large enough for a grown man to crawl through.

He used to slip out to hunt game to keep us from starving and eventually taught me to hunt. He taught me to shoot the crossbow that Grandpa Samuel managed to hold on to, and I learned to track animals in the forest. Hunting in the woods was illegal, punishable by death.

But it was better to die trying.

“Did you hear about the announcement?” Jo bent down to check on a trap I rigged earlier.

“No.”

I watched as she carefully detached a fallen rabbit from the snare. Jo was my hunting partner—an accidental alliance when I nearly shot her a few years back while she was out picking apples by the meadow. I didn’t think anyone else would dare the woods but apparently Jo was sick of starving too.

“This year’s the 75th games, which means it’s the Quarter Quell.”

“So?”

“So,” Jo stuffed the rabbit into her game bag. “There’s always something different during Quarter Quells. This year, they say the Capitol is submitting tributes.”

“What?”

I was surprised. The Capitol was the _Civitatem Angelorum_ , the city of Angels. The Games were a power play to show the 12 Human Districts that we were powerless against their rule. Why would they need tributes?

“I know,” Jo wriggled her eyebrows. “It's a little satisfying though. For once, I can actually celebrate a dead tribute.”

“Don’t. You’ll just turn into them.”

“It’s too late for that, don’t you think?” Jo replied scathingly and I scowled at her.

She’s always raged against the Capitol, speaking of injustices and the corruption of Angels. I’ve never really disagreed because she was right—the Angels lived in luxury in the Capitol, taking the spoils of labor from the districts. It was a hard pill to swallow when everywhere around you, families were dying of starvation.

The irony of it was that some of the older folks remembered what it was like. Angels supposedly came from Heaven. They were the good guys. But then humans became wicked and strayed from God. This was their punishment.

But Jo and I, our parents were Hunters. They told us a different story. Dad said a long time ago, vampires and werewolves and creatures called wendigos roamed free and killed a lot people. Demons were the most dangerous kinds since they were pretty smart and possessed people. Angels were just a different kind of supernatural.

“One of these days, someone will hear you.”

“Let them hear.” The glint in her eye is what worried me the most. Jo could talk all she wanted but when it came down to it, she’d just get herself killed and there would be nothing she could do about it. There was nothing anyone could do. The harsh fact remained: we were under the control of creatures far more powerful than us.

The Games held every year served as a constant reminder.

The Hunger Games was a pageant held every year, hosted by the Capitol, where two tributes, one boy and girl from the human districts 1-12 would be thrown together in a fight to the death. To make things worse, the districts were forced to treat it as a festivity and every year, the long months of starvation would be temporarily alleviated by the arrival of parceled goods from the capitol.

I hated the games with a passion.

We made it to the fence without further complications and I let Jo take care of the rabbit, knowing that she would split the earnings fairly later on.

I jogged back to my dwelling, noting that most of the families were preparing themselves for the Reaping, where the two tributes would get picked in a lottery.

I rushed in to Sam’s bitch face, scowling at me in the middle of a hair-cut.

“You’re late!” He complained.

“Hold still, Sam.” Mom insisted, snipping away.

“I was out hunting.” I toed off my boots and hung up my satchel.

“Wash up, Dean, and hurry. We can’t be late for…” she faltered. “We can’t be late.”

Mom could never say the words. I scrubbed the dirt off my nails as I pondered about it. Ever since Dad died, mom had struggled to keep us together and she almost gave up. There was a time when she could hardly get out of bed and we were in true danger of starving. That was when I decided to start hunting.

There was a clean outfit I’ve never seen before on my cot when I finished bathing. I touched the soft fabric of the trousers—these were reaping clothes.

“Those were your father’s.” Mom said, smiling misty-eyed by the door. “I think they’d fit you nicely.”

“Thanks.”

Reaping day was the one day we get to wear nice clothes. I wasn’t sure how I felt about wearing dad’s pants but it wasn’t like I had many options.

The siren outside signaled that it was time to go. I threw on my clothes and fetched Sam who was sitting white-faced by the kitchen.

The Reaping was about to begin.

 

 

 

* * *

 

“You have two minutes.”

“Sammy,” I breathed as Sam latched onto me tightly. He was crying again and I couldn’t stop the lump in my throat if I tried. “We have no time, listen to me. You have to survive, okay? Don’t go out to the woods, it’s not worth it. Jo will bring you game. Take care of Impala for me and she’ll give you milk. Okay? Did you hear me?”

“Maybe you can win.” Sam cried, staring up at me wildly. “You can hunt! How different could it be?”

“Right,” I tried to sound confident for his sake. “But Sammy, in case I don’t make it, you have to take care of Mom, okay? Don't go into the mines, try to find another way.”

“Dean,” Sammy interrupted. “Promise me you’ll try. Promise me!”

I paused, unwilling to make promises I couldn’t keep. But Sam was looking at me desperately and I knew I just had to try.

“I promise.” I whispered.

And then I hugged mom, whispering quickly in her ear everything I said to Sammy, just in case he wasn’t listening. I was about to go into the arena to die but my only terrified thoughts were for them. I needed them to be safe.

“We’ll be okay, Dean.” Mom said, her voice trembling. “My baby…I’m so sorry. I just…”

“Time’s up.”

My family was forced out of the room by the peacekeepers who practically had to manhandle Sam to let go of me. I was crying now but I was too upset to care. There were no cameras here. I was safe.

Probably for the last time.

 

*


	3. The Tributes

I fucking hate Bobby Singer.

It was a mantra in my head, fervent and laced with poison as I glared up at the man through the cut on my right eye.

We were both breathing hard, held back by two strangers whose names I didn’t even bother to find out. Bobby fucking Singer was our mentor and he was a useless drunkard. We were doomed.

“I dunno what’s gotten your panties in a twist, mister. What the hell do you want to hear?”

“How about some advice? Because, I dunno, you’re our fucking mentor.”

“Here’s some advice.” Bobby snarled. “Stay alive.”

“Fuck you!”

“Never gonna happen, son.” Bobby shook off his captors. “I need a fucking drink.”

And with the swish of the door, he was gone.

“Son of a bitch!”

We were en route to the capital. I only had to look around the lavish interior of the high-speed train to know that we were not in District 12 anymore. There were mountains and tureens of the most amazing food I’ve ever seen. Brightly colored drinks in crystal carafes lined the walls. Rich fur rugs and intricate ornaments decorated the cabin. I’ve never seen anything uglier.

“Are you alright?” Lisa touched my arm.

“Yeah, fine.” I said, moving away to check a reflective surface. The cut on my eye was barely bleeding but it marred my face and stood out.

Shit.

“Fighting before the games. This is gonna hurt my chances with sponsors, won’t it?”

Yeah, I knew about the sponsors. Despite my utter loathing of the games, we were forced to watch it every year. And almost every year, the tribute with the most generous sponsor almost always wins. I knew I had a piss-poor chance of winning but I did promise Sam that I’d try. So far I’ve done a bang-up job.

“Do you… do you think you could win?” Lisa’s voice was small and immediately, I felt awful.

“Not really,” I owed her some honesty. “But we should at least try, right? How are you holding up, by the way?”

“Okay, I guess.” She frowned. “It’s kind of awful that I’m talking to you like this and then be expected to kill you later.”

My blood ran cold. I didn’t expect her to be so blunt.

“Do you… do you want me to stop talking to you?”

“No. I don’t think it’ll make it easier.”

She was right. I’d just have to hope that she’d get killed by someone else. As soon as the thought struck, I felt nauseated.

“So Bobby’s a dud.” Lisa made her way towards the table laden with food. “What do you think we should do?”

I turned to stare at my bloodied reflection on the window. Outside, it was all a blur.

“Stay alive, I guess.”

The two people I didn’t recognize were still with us in the compartment but they hadn’t said a word, not even when I asked for their names. Their silence unnerved us, but with nothing else to do, we finally sat down and inspected the food. I’ve never seen such fine dishes before and was a bit wary of them. But when Lisa braved a taste and her face lit up, I gave in and attacked the food with as much restraint as I could.

I was starving. I was starved all my life.

And she was right, the food was undeniably the best we would ever have. Succulent white flesh, lamb stew, white grain and soft butter rolls. We didn’t speak for a while.

I was just licking the last of the stew from my fingers when the door hissed open again and a disgruntled Becky strode in.

“Really! You shouldn’t have attacked your mentor like that! Now he refuses to leave his room.”

“Let him rot there.” I couldn’t help my scathing retort.

Becky’s face flushed red. “Manners! That’s not the way to talk to your elders!”

Despite myself, I laughed.

We were being led to our deaths and she was concerned about my _manners._

 

 

**

 

The trains were moving, I was assured, at an ‘incredible speed’ of 800 km/h. That meant nothing to me but sometimes my eyes would seek the windows, as if to check if we were really moving. The floor felt funny under my feet. It was not the grounding earth I was used to and the sleek walls of the train made me feel caged. Then again, it was a cage.

My first night, I woke up to a cold sweat with Sam’s screams ringing in my ears. Gasping, my fingers fumbled for a warm body beside me, but there was only cold space and soft sheets. My face was damp with tears. I knew that when I got to the Capitol, there would be cameras on me and I couldn’t afford to look weak.

 _Or what?_ An exasperated voice filtered through my mind. _Do you honestly think you have a chance? That you could actually win?_

And then the despair hit me, and I could finally wrap my mind around the fact. I was going to die. Sammy. Mom. Jo. Oh god.

Sammy.

He had been the only thing good in that godforsaken place. We were born into the cruel life of District 12 and it was a curse, it had to be. And dad… he just wanted to keep us alive. Gave up his gun, took to the mines. And then there was the explosion; it had to happen eventually, and despite all the signs, despite the inevitability, it still fucking hurt. It almost killed mom, too. And we were all nearly goners.

But Sam… he was the one who pulled us through. The kid ran around in the cold trying to find something edible and all I could do was scream at mom to get her fucking shit together. He got me to see sense. He saved all of us.

_“Promise me you’ll try, Dean!”_

I pressed a knuckle against my eye.

“Yeah, Sammy.” I rasped. “Okay.”

I needed to get my shit together. And so the next morning, I dragged myself out to the main carriage—past Becky Rosen in her ridiculous hair and frilly dress—and confronted Bobby Singer. He was buttering a piece of toast and I snatched up the jam Lisa was handing him.

“How do you win?”

“Winchester,” He didn’t even look up. “Sit your ass down, you idjit—“

Lisa cried out in alarm as I impaled the nearest table knife as hard as I could, inches from his hand.

Behind me, Becky gave an indignant shriek.

“That is _Mahogany_!”

“Well, lookie here,” Bobby guffawed, poking at the knife. “Little Winchester’s got some fight in him. What’cha gonna do, stab everyone to death till you win the games?”

“If I have to.”

Bobby turned a calculating eye on me. “You ever killed, boy?”

“Animals.”

“He hunts.” Lisa interrupted. “I’ve seen the rabbits he sells. He’s a really good shot.”

“A hunter, huh?” Bobby chews. “Your granddad was one. But we didn’t hunt animals, boy. We hunted much more dangerous things.”

“I don’t plan to go down without a fight.” The resulting silence was so thick I could hear the slight vibration of the train walls as it moved across the tracks. “How. Do. You. Win.”

“No one wins the Games, boy.” snapped Bobby. “You just survive. And then cling on to the last vestige of your sanity for the rest of your life.”

“So how do you survive?”

“Sure not with that stellar personality of yours.” He grinned nastily. “You’ve got to have sponsors to even have a fighting chance, you know that right?”

“So help us get sponsors.” I gritted out. “That’s your job, isn’t it?”

“Among other things.” Bobby poured himself a glass of amber liquid. I promptly grabbed it and threw it against the wall. “Hey!”

“No more drinking.” I said. “You’re gonna be stone cold sober and you’re going to help us get those sponsors.”

“Dean,” Lisa’s voice was laced with distress. “Are you really doing this?”

“We.” I rounded at her. “Lisa, we’ve got to at least try.”

She leapt to her feet. “You know I don’t stand a fighting chance, Dean! Might as well just kill me now, and get it over with!”

“Lisa, I—“

For a brief moment, Lisa’s mask cracked and I glimpsed the absolute terror in her face. She ran from the compartment and I swear to god, I was going to kick myself for my insensitivity. Becky muttered something and gave me a glare for good measure before tottering after Lisa.

“Smooth,” Bobby picked at his teeth. “She’s right, anyway. She won’t last a minute. Now you, on the other hand,” He eyed me. “Why do you want to live?”

“I made a promise.” I slumped against a seat. “I promised I would try.”

“Well, be my guest.”

“So you’ll help me?”

Bobby gave a mirthless laugh, heaving himself to his feet.

“No promises.” He said, before snatching the bottle of amber liquid on his way out. “My advice stands, kid. Stay alive.”

 

***

 

We arrived in the Capitol in three days, and I still had no idea what to do. With Becky’s guidance, Lisa and I had tentatively made up but there was still the uncomfortable elephant in the room. There was only going to have to be one winner and I had clearly declared my intentions.

Despite that, I had to fight off the instinct to grab at her as we were accosted and then dragged to separate rooms, where I was poked and prodded and stripped off bodily hair. At the first painful pull, I screamed and kicked and put up a fight, which was how I ended up meeting my stylist, sore, naked and strapped to a metal table.

“Well, well, well.”

Crowley was a short, stocky figure wrapped up in black with silver shining on his fingers. His eyes were dark, and when his gaze fell on me, I realized just how dark they were.

“You’re a demon.” I breathed.

They were bedtime stories and nightmares back in the District. I never thought I’d actually get to see one.

“Clever you.” Crowley had the Capitol accent, though noticeably less flamboyant. “And here I thought I had to deal with an ingrate coal-miner. What a promising start.”

I hated him already.

“So. Dean Winchester.” He circled around me, prodding and checking for invisible things that were to his satisfaction. “The boy who volunteered. The Righteous Man.” He burst into a sudden, boisterous laughter. “Do you know they call you that here? Honestly.”

“I thought your kind went extinct.”

“Most of us.” He agreed. “But me? Ah, King of Hell. Perks. What can you do?”

It was my turn to laugh. “Well, your highness. Seeing as you’re my stylist, let’s get this over with. Make me pretty.”

“You’ve got the goods, love. I’m here to help you make an impression.” Crowley snapped his fingers and two female assistants stepped out from the shadows. I tried not to stare at their flickering dark eyes as they wrapped me up in scraps of black leather. Demons. In the city of Angels.

Their names were Ruby and Meg and they talked over me like twittering birds—sly, twittering birds—and I realized they were giving me information.

“So,” Ruby giggled as she sawed at my fingernails. “I hear they’re being handled by Balthazar. Can you _imagine_ the scandal?”

“Yes, and I heard they’re going with the wings.”

The two exploded with malicious laughter.

“Ooh, can’t wait to see that.”

“So what are this year’s tributes like?” I tried for casual, mustering a smile. “I haven’t had the chance to watch the whole feed. It’s been a whirlwind.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.” Meg cooed, pinching my cheek. “Have to say though; you’re the best looking one we’ve had yet. Save for Castiel maybe, if you’re into the whole tax accountant look.”

I had no idea what a tax accountant was.

“I dunno, that District 4 boy looked yummy.”

“Just because he showed you his ass—“

“Who’s Castiel?” I said.

“Haven’t you heard?” Ruby yanked at my hair, bullying it into place. “He’s one of the Capitol’s tributes.”

My heart hammered in my chest.

“Is he one of the Careers, then?”

Meaning did he train to be a killer, that motherfucker.

“Might as well be one,” said Ruby. “Since he’s a… you know.”

“He’s a what?”

They looked at me scornfully as if I was being deliberately obtuse.

“Seriously, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Well!” Crowley once more slinks into view and I swear my heart nearly jumped out my chest. “Aren’t you in for a treat, then?”

“Are we gonna light him on fire?” said Ruby as she helped me step into heavy boots.

“What?!”

“Ooh, yes, maybe we should.” Crowley rubbed his hands. “The Boy on Fire. Has a better ring than The Boy who Volunteered, eh?”

“Is he ready yet?” Becky burst into the room in a splash of color. “Oh good, right on schedule. Let’s go, Dean! Chin up, smiles on! Chop, chop!”

My protests were drowned by Becky’s enthusiasm and the staggering glare of bright lights and I was dragged into a large area where all the other tributes had gathered.

It was time for the Tributes parade.

Immediately, I looked around for Lisa, eyeing everyone I could and committing their faces to memory. This year’s tributes were a mixed bunch, with a variety of young, terrified faces to older, more haunted expressions. Most were dressed in colorful garb and I plucked at my dark jacket, wondering not for the first time, what business a demon had styling for a tribute from District 12.

“Dean!”

“Oh, thank god, Lisa.” I grabbed her. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She smiled. “Tessa was really nice to me.”

Figures she had a nice stylist while I had a demonic one.

“What are you wearing?” I had to ask. Her dress looked like something had ripped it to shreds. Violently.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She threw her hands up. “Tessa said we’d be wearing matching outfits. We’re supposed to represent the mining district, so I guess black for coal?”

“At least we’re not naked.” I muttered. That happened once.

“Hullo, loves.”

Crowley needed a bell. Maybe because he was a Demon but I hadn’t even felt him approach. He was carrying a flaming torch and I instinctively backed away.

“You’re not lighting us on fire.”

“Of course I am.” His teeth glinted. “Now, be nice and stand still.”

“Like hell--!” I swallowed a scream as my scrap of a shirt caught fire. It didn’t hurt. There was no heat and I was perfectly fine. “What the…?”

“Synthetic fire, perfectly harmless,” said Crowley.

“You son of a bitch!”

Crowley ignored me in favor of setting Lisa on fire. Light was fading fast and in the deepening twilight, we must have looked a sight and the other tributes were openly staring at us. I took that as an invitation and stared right back.

I recognized the District 1 tributes who always wore something glittery every year, and had awful names like ‘Glimmer’ and ‘Marvel.’ Obvious Careers. The other Careers should be from District 2 and I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as I caught sight of the male tribute. He looked dangerous.

A loud horn blasting from the arena signaled the beginning of the parade. Our carriage was being pulled by strange, repelling looking creatures and I pointedly avoided looking at them.

Being District 12, we were usually the last tributes to roll out into the arena. Districts 1 and 2 had already rolled out to the swell of music, but there was another carriage behind us. One boy and one girl. They must be the Capitol’s then.

They were dressed simply, with white cloth draped over slight frames and leaves twined into their hair. It was dark, so I couldn’t see much but the light from the flickering flames on my body bounced off the male tribute’s dark hair. As if noticing my gaze, he turned sharply towards me and our eyes met. He had startling eyes—deep and cerulean, like staring down the bottomless ocean. My fingertips grew numb and I could hear the roaring in my ears. I was being sucked in. The alien gaze held mine as something white and glowing began to unfurl from his back. From their backs.

I realized with growing horror what they were.

Our carriage gave a sudden start and Lisa grabbed my hand painfully. We were finally moving and the roaring in my ears was replaced by the deafening cheer of the crowd. Lisa looked at me and I drew strength from our gripped hands.

“Chins up, smiles on! They’re going to love you!” Becky cried as we wheeled past her and into the arena.

So I raised my head and tried a brittle smile as the lights blinded me. And as we were wheeled closer towards center stage, towards the deafening roar of an amorous crowd, I gripped Lisa’s hand for dear life and held onto my smile even as my mind rebelled and raged with what I had seen.

_Wings._

They were wings.

The Capitol had volunteered Angels as their tributes.


	4. Boy on Fire

***

 

Zachariah had been the resident Angel host of the Games ever since I could remember. Up close he was no less creepy and more terrifying in the way that his permanent smile was as unyielding as the alarming shade of his hair.

Lisa and I had been briefed by Becky about what we had to say on-camera but frankly, I thought it was stupid. Bobby said we had to ‘sell our image’ but the only ‘image’ I’d managed to obtain was the annoying moniker Crowley had tagged me: The Boy on Fire. I wondered if I would be required to breathe fire for their entertainment.

Sammy would have found it hilarious.

More importantly, I learned more about the other tributes and—surprise, surprise, turns out Bobby’s not that useless after all. He’d spent years as the lone mentor for District 12 and, as I slowly began to realize, he’d also spent year after year helplessly watching his protégés die in the arena, again and again. I tried not to be too hard on his drinking after that.

“District 1—they’re Careers, obviously.” Bobby glared balefully up at the projected screen. “Gordon and Bela Talbot. Volunteered as tributes. Trained and vicious killers. Get them as allies, if you can.”

“Allies?” Lisa shot Bobby a look. “You’d think they’d ally with us?”

“No,” he replied bluntly. “But since we’re going with Winchester’s plan to not get killed in the first minute, you’re going to try anyway. So, _if_ you can…” He pointedly turned to the next slide. “District 2, Azazel and Lilith. Most dangerous players in the game. You see them, don’t even think about allying. You run the opposite direction and you keep running.” 

“I don’t like him.” I stared at the arrogant smirk plastered on the screen. “What’s wrong with his eyes?”

“Surgery. It’s fashionable. Keep up.” Bobby showed us the other tributes profiles but they were pretty average. Forgettable. I grit my teeth in exasperation. I was forgettable. If I were a sponsor, I wouldn’t notice me. Or quickly forget me. My stunt as the Boy on Fire could only bring me so far.

“Castiel and Anael.”

That got my attention.

“Who?”

Bobby’s expression turned sour and shot a look at Becky who coughed primly into her handkerchief.

“Well, what’s there to say? Capitol’s tributes.” Bobby harrumphed. “If you can call them that. Ignore them. Pretend they don’t exist.”

“They’re angels.” I pointed out.

Lisa’s cup crashed to the ground. “Wh-what?”

“Kinda hard to miss, with their wings and all.” Bobby grumbled. “Yeah, they’re angels. But so fucking what. They’re still entering as tributes so it’s free for all.”

“And how do you kill an angel?” I demanded.

 No one answered and Bobby pointedly fixed his eyes on Becky’s shoes. Becky was beginning to turn pink with discomfort.

 “Becky,” I felt a sick feeling in my gut. “How do you kill an angel?”

 “You don’t.”  She finally replied, shakily. “It isn’t done.”

 “So how,” I said, temper rising. “…do they expect us to deal with them?”

 Silence.

 “We’re not fighting to the death.” I whispered, sick realization dawning. My eyes flickered from Bobby to Becky, silently begging them to correct me, or call me an idiot.  “We’re walking into a slaughter.”

  

***

 

On the day of the Interviews, Lisa was a wreck. She had taken the news of the angel tributes badly and I could hear her crying in her bed every night. I felt terrible, but I was too numb to feel the fear. Mostly, I was angry.

 I knew the games were a pathetic show of power by the Capitol, but there were winners. There was a chance, however slim, that you could rise above the carnage and be crowned the champion and escape the nightmare. By pitting us against angels, they’ve just crushed that hope and we’re being prepped like cattle for slaughter. I was infuriated.  

 “Lisa, dear, we need to do something about those eyes.” Becky said, gently examining her face. “I’ll call Tessa.”

 District 1 tributes—Gordon and Bela, were on screen now, being interviewed by Zachariah. They were all laughs and seductive smiles and with their built frames and Career status, they pulled off confidence well.

 “Nice costume.”

 District 7—my mind supplied. She was one of the tributes I remembered who didn’t bother to train at all.

 “Uh, thanks, I guess?”

 Crowley had managed to squeeze me into a pair of pants of a strange, amorphous material that seemed to swim from black to blue green depending on the light. And little else. I was barefoot, with silver circling my arms and a black symbol tattooed over my heart.

 “My stylist’s an idiot.” She rolled her eyes, twirling around in her brown ensemble. “I’m supposed to be a tree, mind. But you can never tell.”

 District 2 is on screen now, and Azazel flashed his yellow eyes to the delight of the audience. Azazel’s partner on the other hand had a quiet deadliness about her and she promised with a toothy smile that she would give the Capitol a show they’d never forget.

 “Gotta hand it to them, they know what they’re doing.” Said Disrict 7 girl. “Oh and look, Nuts and Bolts are up next.”

 I scowled.

 “Don’t call them that.” 

 During the Training period, Bobby’s instructions had been to make allies, and even though I knew it made sense, I just wasn’t into the idea of sucking up to the Careers.

 “You’re going to be given a wide array of weapons to try out. Don’t show your hand just yet, they have a private session for that. Just keep an eye out, watch out for strengths and weaknesses, and most of all,” Bobby narrowed his eyes. “Make strong allies. If you can.”

 So I stayed away from the knives and didn’t look at the crossbow sitting quietly at the side, and instead puttered around at the knot-tying station. Lisa stayed by the edible plants with a tribute from District 5.

 The Careers however, had no qualms about showing off and I tried not to watch as they threw around knives and chopped off wooden dolls with practiced ease. They were getting on everyone’s nerves.

 On the second day of rope-tying though, I found both tributes from District 3 already at the station.

 “Hold it a bit higher up and you’ll get more space to work on.” I advised, quietly sitting next to them.

 The boy—couldn’t have been older than me—looked up in surprise.

 “Uh, thanks.”

  _Make allies_ , I heard Bobby’s snarl in my head.

 “I’m Dean.”

 “We know.” The boy turned red. “Er, I mean, you pretty much stand out.”

 “I do?” That was news to me.

 “We watched your reaping.” The girl—a bit older, maybe late twenties—murmured.

 “Oh.”

 “I’m Kevin.” The boy smiled tentatively. “And this is Elanor.”

 “Hey.”

 We spent the time talking about mundane things and it was strangely comfortable. They amiably tell me about District 3, where they studied currents and electricity and made machines and fashionable gadgets.

 “I’m an engineer.” said Kevin. “I build stuff. Elanor’s a physicist. We’re not really cut out for the games.”

  _No one’s cut out for the games_ , I thought viciously to myself.

 Kevin glanced up curiously behind me. “I think you have a shadow.”

 A young, blonde girl stood listlessly by a pillar. She caught me looking and quickly lowered her head. I remembered her—she was from District 11. She was Sammy’s age.

 “She’s too young for this.” I grimaced, angry all over again. “Fucking Capitol.”

 Kevin and Elanor shared nervous looks. I stood up to talk to her and made my way over when the tributes from District 2 blocked my way.

 “Well, if it isn’t Fireboy.” Azazel had the most annoying nasal voice in the world. “Heard you volunteered for your District. Any good with a weapon?”

 “You’ll find out.” I said, sidestepping him. The blond girl from District 11 disappeared.

 With a snap, the world turned upside down and the wind was knocked out of me. I groaned in pain.  

 “And you’ll find out I don’t respond well to lip.” Azazel growled. “Watch your step, Fireboy. I’m gonna kill you first.”

 “You can try.” I snarled from my position on the floor.

 Bobby smacked me in the head for that.

 “Oh yeah, antagonize the big, dangerous Career who can rip you pieces.” He said. “You’re a piece of work, Winchester.”

 “What’s the point, we’re never gonna be allies!” I argued.

 “Oh yeah?” Bobby crossed his arms. “So who do you want then?”

 “Kevin and Elanor.” I said. “District 3.”  

 “Nuts and Bolts?” Bobby rubbed his face. “Of course you do.”

 “I like them.” I said stubbornly.

 “Like I said, a piece of work.” Bobby rolled his eyes. “And you, Braeden? Who do you want?”

 “What about Benny?” she replied. “District 4? He seems okay.”

 “Good choice.” Bobby nodded. “Benny’s plenty skilled and he’s not some bloodthirsty Career. You can work with him.”

 “I don’t trust him.” I scowled.

 “That’s because he flirted with you and called you ‘pretty.’ Get over yourself.” Said Bobby bluntly. “Win him over. I’ll talk to his mentor.”

 “No.”

 “Not a request, Winchester.”

 That had been a week ago, and now I’m watching Kevin and Elanor talking to Zachariah about their plans to build a solar-powered device if they made it out alive. I felt bile rising in my throat. We all knew no one was going to make it out alive.

 The other interviews go by in a blur. We were only given three minutes each to sell ourselves to the audience in hopes of getting a sponsor. That was not enough time and too much at the same time.

 I glanced towards the back of the room where the Capitol’s tributes stood. They were silent and still as statues and would have gone unnoticed except for their large, white wings protruding from their bodies. And how you could you not notice them.

 “Oh, quite frankly, it’s not proper!” Becky had whispered once as they watched the replay of the parade on TV. “Angel wings are very personal and private and showing them off publicly is like… like… showing everyone your…” and she had collapsed into a flustered mess.                                                                                                 

Voyeuristic, then. I eyed the male tribute (Castiel?) and felt the bitterness well up in me.

 “And now, our female tribute from District 11!”

 I looked up curiously. It was her, the blonde girl who had shadowed me during the training period. She was dressed in white gossamer and her mentor had probably angled her for the pure, innocent look.

 “So, Jessica,” Zachariah’s smile could have been called sweet. “Tell me, how old are you?”

 “I’m sixteen.”

 I closed my eyes.

 “You’re the youngest tribute this year, aren’t you? What do you say to that?”

 “I’m very fast.” Jessica blinked through her wide, somber eyes. “And if they can’t catch me, they can’t kill me. So don’t count me out just yet.”

 The audience gave an encouraging laugh. Lisa stepped up beside me and touched my arm.

 “You’re up next.” She murmured. “Are you ready?”

 “I’ll never be ready.”

 Bobby and Crowley had tried to work on my tendency to put my foot in my mouth; but that was like two very large pots calling the kettle black. Less than ten minutes in, we were ripping into each other. 

 “Think about Sam,” said Lisa softly. “Pretend you’re talking to him. You can be funny and charming, Dean. When you don’t feel the need to tear them a new one.”

 And before I could reply, rough hands pulled me towards the stage and Jessica brushed past me, avoiding my eyes. I stumbled out of the curtains and then there was my face on the screen, magnified for the entire world to see. I didn’t recognize the expression on my face but somehow, I managed a smile.

 “Dean Winchester!”

 The thing about Zachariah was that he was terrifying but helpful in the sense that he did his job by not making you look like an idiot.

 “The boy on fire!”

 Okay, not so much then.

 I forced a laugh and waved awkwardly at the cheering crowd.

 “So!” Zachariah clapped his hands as we settled into our seats. I could see the camera locking onto my face. “Tell me, how very different is the Capitol from where you’re from?”

  _It’s hell on earth_ , I wanted to say.

  _Think about Sam_. Lisa was right. _Pretend you’re talking to him_.

 “I uh, I like the showers.”

 And then I realized the audience was laughing along.

 “As it happens, so do I.” Zachariah leaned in conspiratorially. “So, let’s talk about numbers. E-le-ven. You’ve managed to collect the highest score! Tell us about it.”

 For a second, I panicked. What was he talking about? And then, like light piercing through the ugly curtains of my current room, I remembered the private sessions with the gamekeepers and what I had done.

 After three days of watching the Careers throw their weight around, I was feeling antsy. Lisa had taken to slipping into my room and curling up beside me until we fell asleep. Becky had seen us but refrained from commenting and frankly, I just didn’t care. Lisa’s been having nightmares and I had trouble falling asleep. We were both at our wits end.

 Bobby had talked to the mentor for District 4; he said that Benny would be amiable if we approached him as allies.

 “No.”

 “Still not a request, Winchester.”

 “I’m not allying with him. We’re going to end up killing each other anyway.”

 “Oh for—Fine.” Bobby threw up his hands. “Just remember who the true enemy is.”

 The private sessions were actually a ten-minute window of opportunity to impress the gamekeepers, and that was when Bobby planned for us to show off our ‘skills.’ We needed a high evaluation to convince sponsors to invest in us.

 Being District 12, we were the last ones in. And when I finally entered the room after Lisa’s ten minutes were up, I could see it was a tremendous disadvantage.

 The gamekeepers were bored and drunk on their wine, more interested in talking and playing games than paying attention to whatever I had to offer. Still, I slunk into the room and eyed the swirls of color at my feet. Lisa must have done some painting.

 There were some throwing knives at the side that I immediately gravitated to. They were a good, solid weight in my palm and I tested the balance as I looked at the various targets lined up on the wall. I could do this. Relax. Breathe.

 I threw one, as hard as I could and it landed askew, barely hitting the target. I flushed, glancing quickly at the gamekeepers who were very quickly losing interest.  I threw the knife in my other hand and it landed dead center. Encouraged, I grabbed the rest of the knives and threw them at the remaining targets, hitting each one dead center. It was excellent throwing.

 I looked up at the gamekeepers and area and realized with a sinking feeling that no one had seen or they had not cared enough to comment. And with that realization came the swift thrust of anger that spurred me to grab the crossbow and aim.

 Yells of alarm and indignation rang through the room and yes, finally, I had their full attention. I dropped my crossbow and without breaking their wide-eyed gazes, sank into a bow.

 “Thank you for your consideration.”

 I left the room, my arrow still quivering from where it was embedded in the eye of their roasted pig.

 Becky had been in hysterics. Bobby didn’t say a word, just sort-of smiled at me in this proud kind of way and Lisa clapped me on the back. I only felt the true gravitas of what I had done that night when Zachariah was announcing the results of the gamekeeper’s evaluation.

 I shot the gamekeepers. Well, at them. They were never going to let me live it down. I was going to fail and no sponsors would back me. I’d be dead before the first day. Sammy.

 “Eleven!”

 “What?!”

 “I don’t believe it—“

 “You did it, Winchester. They must have liked your spunk.”

 “Spunk?!” Becky sputtered. “SPUNK! He’s a raving lunatic and thank goodness the gamekeepers were gracious enough to see otherwise and WHERE ARE YOU GOING YOUNG MAN—“

 Becky’s voice rang in my ears as I stared back at Zachariah’s expectant face. Oh, right. He was waiting for my reply. I couldn’t really tell him all that because strictly speaking…

 “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you if I tell you that.”

 Oh. Not what I meant to say. The crowd seemed to like it anyway.

 “Not even a little bit of detail?” Zachariah glanced over at the front row of the crowd, where the gamekeepers sat. They were shaking their heads, laughing. “No? Oh, well, shame that. So! Let’s talk about your reaping. District’s 12 never had any volunteers. Tell me, what was running through your mind when you did?”

 I felt my throat close. No, I don’t want to tell you. I don’t want to tell any of you.

  _Pretend it’s Sam._

 “I…I just wanted him to be safe.”

 “Your brother, wasn’t it?”

 “Yes. Sam.” I couldn’t help the warble in my voice. “He’s only sixteen.”

 “Did you exchange words before you left?”

 “Yeah.”

 “What did you say?”

 “I said…” I looked up, saw the camera. I knew they were all watching me. “I promised him I would win.”

 The crowd exploded into cheers. I managed a smile and waved. After that, Zachariah had wanted to talk about my outfit.

 “When District 12 rolled out in their carriage, our hearts stopped! You were on fire! How did that feel?”

 “Terrifying?” I blurted out. “It wasn’t actually real fire but Crowley—my stylist, forgot to mention that.”

 The crowd was howling with laughter. Good.

 “Are you perhaps wearing some flames today—could we see?”

 I suppressed a sigh and stood up. Crowley said this would happen and he had shown me a small groove on the many baubles around my wrist. I dug my fingers in and raised my arms above my head as the flames sparked at my feet and licked their way up my thighs. Even when I was expecting it, it was still terrifying as hell. Pun aside.

 “Oh, lovely!”

 The crowd was on their feet, cheering and whistling and Zachariah was twirling me around, flames and all and I had never felt so foolish in my life.

 “ _Civitatem Angelorum_ , I give you, the Boy on Fire!”

 

**


	5. Let the Games Begin

******

 

My palms were sweating. I could hear my heart beating like a drum. Trapped inside the narrow glass tube with only my racing thoughts as company, I bit down on the beginnings of a panic attack.

 Finally, the day of the games had arrived, and despite my determination to remain in bed for as long as I could, I was dragged out of my room and into a transport, where we were herded like cattle. I caught only a glimpse of Lisa’s pale face before they injected me with a tracker and transferred into a small, windowless room, where Bobby was waiting for me. And when the time came to get into position, he gave me a small, final hug and the gruff words: _Stay alive._

 The glass tube was thick, and kept any sound from penetrating the small space I was in. I could hear every harsh breath and pounding heartbeat. I would soon be transferred into the arena. This was it.

  _“Listen, when you get onto your platform, don’t even think about moving before the countdown finishes or you’ll be blown to pieces, you understand? When the shot rings, you run out of there, as fast as you can, hear me? As fast as you can. Don’t take anything. Head for the woods. Find water.”_

 Something about Bobby’s expression on his next words still bugged me.

  _“Remember who the enemy is.”_

 It was down to a few precious seconds. If I could leave the cornucopia, where all the supplies were laid out and where all the careers would be heading towards, then I could actually have a chance at surviving. If I got caught in the bloodbath, it was all over.

  _Thirty seconds_.

 I was never much for praying. After all, there was no god. Angels and demons on earth were proof that he was dead, or had abandoned his creations.

 But mom grew up with the old prayers. Some nights, growing up, when it was particularly hard, she would tuck me and Sammy to bed with a prayer and a sign of the cross.

 I prayed now, fingers trembling, as I raised my hands to my forehead. Please. Somebody. Just… _please_.

 The floor beneath me was vibrating and within moments, I was exposed to the glare of the sun and the wide, foreboding clearing that was to be our arena. Immediately, my eyes zeroed in on the golden cornucopia rising from the ground a few meters away. Around me, fellow tributes stood encased in glass that was gradually retracting into the ground.

  _Ten seconds._

 Panic seized me and my eyes darted around for Lisa. _Where was she? Where?_

 I managed to glimpse Benny, and perhaps a flash of golden hair, but in my disorientation, I missed the sound of the shot. It was just a few seconds lag but enough to be my downfall and I cursed viciously as I raced towards the cornucopia. Whatever plan I toyed with was abandoned as I made a beeline for the nearest pack, grabbed it by the strap and made a sharp right turn.

 Shouting and then the sounds of metal ripping through flesh filled the air and it was only through sheer instinct that I was able to raise my pack to my head to avoid getting a knife embedded in it.

 There were two other tributes running ahead of me, and as we disappeared into the trees, I fervently hoped I would never see them again.

 I was fast; the past week of good food and a lifetime of running through the woods put me in better conditions that I could have hoped for. The ground felt good beneath my feet and the wind coaxed the flush in my cheeks. I tried not to stare when I glimpsed a fallen body, and focused on getting away from the sound of screaming and fighting behind me.

 And even when the voices faded and the quiet settled, I did not dare stop until my thighs burned. Stumbling into the safety of a large tree, I wiped the sweat off my face as I gasped for air.

 The forest here was different and yet familiar at the same time. I knew from Bobby’s notes that this was an artificial one, created specifically for the games. Still, I had to find water soon.

 My pack, I realized, as I rooted through it, had the barest essentials, but something I was glad I risked my neck for nonetheless. I wasn’t sure about the night vision goggles, but the rope and the sleeping bag would save me a lot of trouble. The water bottle could have been filled, though.

 Sighing, I stood, uncomfortable with staying in one place for a prolonged amount of time. But even as I slung the pack behind me, I felt the small glimmer of hope. I felt good. I might actually have a fighting chance.

 My first order of business was to try to orient myself. I was too busy putting as much distance as I could from the cornucopia, so I hadn’t made any wild twists and turns. I estimated a distance of an hour’s walk and decided to head further north. Also, water.

 I was starting to feel the thirst and I knew if I didn’t find water fast, it could spell trouble.

 “ _Find water,”_ Bobby growled in my head.

 “Yeah, yeah.” I grumbled, keeping an eye out for movement. I spared a thought for Lisa and prayed she had managed to survive. They would announce the dead tributes at the end of the day, and I wasn’t looking forward to hearing familiar names.

 When the sun began to sit low on the sky, I began to worry. There was no sign of water anywhere, and I couldn’t help but fear that the only water source could be miles from where I was walking away from. My feet were beginning to protest, as these were not the soft, worn leather boots I was used to.

 “Shit!” I tripped over a gnarled root.

 Scrapped elbows aside, I could feel the exhaustion was swiftly coming over me as I lay on the cool ground. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth and no matter how much I licked my lips, they were cracked and drying. A wry laugh managed to escape me. So, after all that, is this how I go?

  _Find water_ , Bobby’s words attacked me again.

 I opened my eyes. Bobby.

 I sat up and stared up at the sky. There were cameras trained on me, I was certain. They were watching my every move.

 “Water,” I said clearly. “I need water.”

 After a few moments of waiting and feeling foolish, I slumped forward again in despair. Were there no sponsors willing to send me water? Would Bobby really allow me to die like this?

 “ _Quit your whining, you idjit.”_ Bobby’s voice echoed in my head. “ _Think. You need to find water._ ”

 …and if he wasn’t sending it, then it means I must be close.

 I cracked open an eye and finally realized what I was touching. Mud. Wet earth.

 I scrambled to my feet and stumbled, fighting to listen to the sound of water. There. I was an idiot. If I had been paying attention, I would have heard it.

 It was a small stream of running water, partially hidden by the trees, but it was the most glorious thing I’ve ever seen. I kneeled and filled my bottle with trembling hands, but fought with every instinct to guzzle it down as I took a few moments to purify it. The moments of waiting were pure agony, and even when I drank, I forced myself not to gulp it down lest I make myself sick.

  _See_ , I shot back at the Bobby in my head. _I can be sensible too._

When the announcement came for the death toll, I was safely tucked between the sturdy branches of a tall tree (thank you, sleeping bag). I grit my teeth and listened with half dread and a morbid sense of hope that I had less enemies to worry about.

 The first name came up and I winced as I recognized Elanor. District 3. The boy from District 5. Both tributes from District 8. A girl from District 10.  

 Five people dead.

 I closed my eyes and desperately held on to the image of Sam’s face in my mind, terrified for a split-second that I had forgotten it. Sam. Mom. Jo. Dad. Bobby. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Lisa.

 We grew up together, Lisa and I. She was the baker’s daughter and she lived in the better side of the district, but she still acknowledged me in school. Sometimes, I’d catch her watching me.

 I know it was stupid of me to keep thinking about her, when I was expected to kill her in the end. But part of me was loathe to giving into the system. I was going to turn into them. A killer. A puppet of the capitol.

  _Please, God_ , I thought. _Whoever’s out there. If you can hear me, don’t let me become a monster._

 I wasn’t sure how long I stayed that way, hanging between a state of restless dreaming and consciousness, but at the loud snap of twigs breaking, my eyes flew open.

 The night had gotten cold, and I immediately noticed the smoke curling from the trees not far from where I was. Cursing the idiot, whoever they were, I began to uncurl from my tree, when the voices below me made my blood freeze.

 Careers.

 “Two birds with one, that’s the best way to do it.”

 “I don’t care about the other one, I want Winchester.”

 “ _The boy on fire.”_ Came a girl’s voice, mocking. “Wonder what he did to get that 11, though.”

 “Are you sure he went this way, rookie?”

 “I’m sure.”

 I nearly fell off my perch. Benny. That son of a bitch.

 “Got a slice of that 12 girl, though.” Azazel. That was Azazel’s self-satisfied voice. “She’s not dead yet, but she will be soon enough. I know how I cut her.”

 And even as the ringing laughter faded into the distance, I did not move from my spot, processing what I heard.

 There were five of them, Districts 1 and 2, plus Benny, the traitorous bastard.

 There was a shuffling sound in the distance and I flinched as a girl’s scream pierced the air. She was begging for her life, and I leaned my head on the bark of the tree, trying not to be sick.

 The loaded boom of the canon announced her death.

 I opened my eyes and noticed a camera lens cleverly embedded on a nearby tree. Right then, I knew what I had to do. Conscious of the cameras surely trained at my face, I schooled my expression.  Slowly, I clambered out of the tree and moved my way opposite from the Careers.

  _Not gonna make it easy for you, Azazel_. I thought viciously as I stalked into the darkness. _I’m harder to kill than you think._

 


	6. Alliances

******

 

I didn’t have the first clue on how to find Lisa, but it felt good to have a plan. I re-filled my water bottle and checked the traps I had set the previous day. I wanted to show potential sponsors that I could take care of myself. Thankfully, there was a rabbit waiting for me in one of my traps and I carefully skinned it and risked starting a fire to roast it. Food wouldn’t be an issue for a few days. Water would have to be rationed. The Careers were moving in a group and I was at a disadvantage, but I knew that if I stuck to the trees at night, they wouldn’t be able to catch me unaware. For now, I was safe from the Careers.

But I was not safe from the games.

 “Fuck!” I grit my teeth as I dodged another fireball aimed at my head.

The whole forest was on fire, and I scrambled madly towards where I knew there was a water source. Smoke was filling my lungs fast and my eyes watered from the sting. I screamed in agony and fell hard as a blast of flame finally hit me, roasting my right leg. But I was close to safety, I could taste it, so I crawled, clawed my way forward, screaming every inch of the way.

Finally, I managed to slide into the small pool, hissing as the cold water touched my raw skin. I didn’t dare look at my leg. I knew it was a fatal wound. Fuck. I had been careless.

To make my nightmares worse, I heard voices approaching my way. I spotted the flash of Azazel’s yellow eyes before they saw me; but when they eventually did, and I had managed to hoist myself up a tree.

“Come down and play, fireboy.” Azazel sneered up at me.

“I rather like where I am, thanks.” I managed, gasping as I settled onto a sturdy branch. “Why don’t you come up instead?”

 Howling laughter met my statement and I stifled a grimace. Taunting the Careers might not have been the best course of action, but I wasn’t about to show them weakness.

 “I’m gonna kill you,” Azazel said pleasantly. “And I’m going to take pleasure from it.”

 “Be my guest.”

 He began to climb. I forced myself to grit my teeth and climb higher up towards the thinning branches. Below me, there was a loud crack as the branches gave way to Azazel’s sturdier, heavier build. I almost laughed at the string of curses from below.

 “Let him be.” Benny looked up at me, his tone mild. “He’s got nowhere to go. He’ll have to come down eventually. We can wait him out.”

  _Fuck you too_ , I wanted to say.

 “Aw, Benny. Didn’t know you had it in for me. I would have paid you more attention.” I said instead.  

 “No hard feelings, Winchester.” He replied cheerfully.

 I knew I was trapped. Small mercies I guess, when the Careers decided to listen to Benny and settled to make camp around my tree. The pain in my leg grew worse as the night wore on, and even though I knew I had to think of a plan, the pain consumed me and I missed the small package that had arrived until it smacked me in the face.

 With shaking hands I opened the package. There was a small container with a note.

  _Use this and stay alive. –B_

 The container held some sort of salve. I immediately recognized the stinging scent of medicine. Mom ran a small apothecary back in the district, and sometimes, if she had the right ingredients, she would make a paste for small cuts and burns.

 But this was not the modest paste we had back home. This was good, quality Capitol stuff, and the immediate respite that came after applying it on my leg made me whimper. The pain finally dulled to a manageable degree, it was all I could do to surrender to darkness. Even as my vision swam, I managed to whisper my thanks. I could only guess how much that salve must have cost. I must have sponsors. Bobby had my back.

 

 ****

 

 When I regained consciousness, it was to cold sweat and the feeling that I was being watched. I glanced down quickly to check on the Careers and to my relief, they were fast asleep. Probably it was their over-confidence that I wasn’t able to do shit while I was up here. As I was musing over my next step, there was a slight rustle of leaves, and just like that, I was looking at a pair of eyes glittering in the dark.

 I stared.

 It was Jess, the girl from District 11. We locked gazes for so long that I almost didn’t notice her hand slowly moving, pointing up. I glanced in the direction and nearly choked when I finally saw it. A wasp’s nest. A split second of panic later, I realized what she wanted me to do. I made a notion for her to leave, but she was already gone. Clever girl.

 I applied more salve to my leg before I fished out the knife that nearly took out my head. This was going to be delicate work, and I ran the risk of killing myself.

  _But,_ I thought determinedly as I set to work sawing. _If I’m going down, then I’m taking you with me, you motherfuckers._

The branch was stubborn and the knife wasn’t the best tool I had, but I was determined to make this work. The wasps began to stir at the movement, and a few began to buzz around me in annoyance. I stifled a cry as one finally landed on my cheek. These weren’t ordinary wasps. They must be one of the capitol’s breeds. But even as I felt the swelling, I sawed and sawed. Just a little more.

 Two more stung me and at that point, my vision began to swim. It wasn’t until I heard a loud _thunk_ and a swell of angry buzzing did I allow myself to slump forward onto the branches in dizziness.

 Screams of terror erupted from below and I could only imagine the scene; angry wasps were not to be trifled with. Enough poison in your system, and you were a dead man walking. I stumbled away from my branch, trying to get down from the tree. I was so dizzy. My feet were slipping. Pain exploded as I felt my knees hit the ground. And then the hallucinations started.

 “Sammy,” I whispered as I tried to grasp the familiar face in front of me. “What are you doing here…?”

 Sam stood silent, watching me. I didn’t understand. I was walking towards him, but why couldn’t I reach him? Slowly, the figure—Sam—pointed down the ground. Slowly, (why was my head so freakin’ heavy?) I turned to look. A crossbow. Well, Bella was holding the crossbow, but she looked dead. She was probably dead.

 Slowly, so slowly, I fell to my knees. My limbs felt like molasses as I fumbled at her swollen hands, trying to get to the crossbow. This was a good weapon. Why did I need a weapon?

  _“Run.”_

 Sam? He was saying something.

  _“Run, run!”_

 Run?

 “What are you doing, you idiot?!”

 The sharp words finally pierced through the haze in my mind. Sam disappeared and I was staring at Benny’s wide expression. His face was swollen and he was holding a trident in one hand. I gripped the crossbow and swung it at him. For a split second, we stared at each other tensely. And then suddenly, he grinned, all sharp teeth.

 “It’s a good thing we’re not enemies, huh?”

 What?

 Bobby’s words suddenly hit me. _Remember who the enemy is_.

 I stumbled to my feet, enraged.

 “Run, Winchester.” Benny jerked his chin behind him. “I took care of Azazel, he won’t be chasing after us for a while.”

 “You—“

 I remember tasting bile and the bitter words I wanted to saying to him, before darkness overtook me and once again, I was falling.

  _This is happening way too often_ , were my last, dizzy thoughts before I closed my eyes, the faint echo of Sam’s voice in my ears.

  _Sleep, Dean. You’re safe._

 

 

  *******

  

 

“What’s District 11 like?”

 The meat of the bird I shot was fatty but good, and I swiped at the juice running down my chin. Beside me, Jess was licking at her fingers. I silently offered her the other leg.

 “…very big.”

 We were sitting in front of a fire, as large as we dared, watching the birds cook. I had made use of my new weapon and shot a few when I spied a large flock flying over the trees. I was still sore from the wasp stings, but with Jess’ help, I had recovered fairly quickly. She had come back for me in the forest and dragged me to safety, tending to my wasp stings using leaves she had found in the forest.

 Wasp stings are familiar, she said. There were plenty around District 11, and everyone kept a few leaves handy for when they were stung.

 “Thanks,” I mumbled, eyeing her speculatively. “You didn’t have to do that.”

 “I wanted to. You’re a good person, Dean Winchester.”

 I snorted at that. “Not really.”

 She shrugged. “Tell me about your district.”

 “It’s small.” I smirked at her. “Nothing but bare rocks and trees. Our worth is from deep underground.”

 “What’s it like, underground?”

 “I’m not sure,” I replied honestly. “But I imagine it must feel like being buried alive.”

 She shuddered.

 We were allies now. Jess had decided that she could trust me implicitly, and had taken to following me around and picking up random berries to contribute to my hunts. Her face split into a wide grin when I offered to share my sleeping bag, and as we slept huddled against each other for warmth, I realized I trusted her as well. She reminded of Sam. I felt a pang as I realized they would have hit off really well. And when the cannons went off to declare the dead, I firmly refused to think about what it would mean later on.

 The game had only one winner after all.

 I had told Jess about my plans to look for Lisa, and she had simply nodded her head and told me she knew where she had last seen Azazel take her on. It seemed like that the Careers had taken control of the Cornucopia and hoarded their supplies there.

 “We’re going to do something about that.” I decided, as we moved steadily towards the Cornucopia. We were both light on our feet and well-rested, it didn’t take us long to reach it.

 Jess and I watched from our perch in the trees as the Career’s mucked about the open space, obviously still hurting from the wasps. I was filled with grim satisfaction watching Azazel’s swollen face.

 “We’ll need to draw them out.” I whispered to Jess. She nodded, and slipped away before I could say anything else. A few minutes later, a curl of smoke began to rise in the distance. She was clever alright.

 I knew the Career’s had finally spotted the smoke when the clang of weapons and sharp yells began to head towards the forest. I slipped off my perch and slinked towards the Cornucopia. There was still one figure left guarding the mouth. I blinked in surprise.

 “Kevin?”

 He whirled around and paled when he saw me step out of the trees.

 “Get back!” He waved his arms frantically. “Get back, Dean! Or you’ll blow us all up!”

 I froze, eyes darting down to the ground. I realized immediately what I was seeing. Kevin had managed to dig up the explosives rigged to our platforms and planted them around the cornucopia. I spared a moment to admire his genius and wondered how the capitol was taking this.

 “Good to see you too, Kev.”

 He smiled tightly. “I’m glad you’re still alive. Was the fire your doing?”

 “Jess, actually.”

 “District 11?” He raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

 “I don’t want to fight, Kevin.”

 Kevin regarded me for a long moment.  

 “Neither do I.” He finally said.

 “Let me help you.” I felt hopeful. “We need to teach these Careers what Hunger really means.”

 “How?” Kevin looked exasperated. “If I move from here, I’m dead, Dean. The Careers will be back soon enough.”

 “I’ll get you out.” I insisted. “And then, I’m going to blow this place up.”

 Kevin blinked. “Oh.”

 “ _Can_ you get out?”

 “Theoretically, yes.” Kevin frowned at the ground. “If I don’t step on a detonator, I can make it safely across.”

 “Do it.” I replied decisively. “Come on, Kev. We’re running out of time.”

 “Oh god,” He whispered, already edging away of the Cornucopia. “I know I’m crazy for doing this but I’m a dead man either way—“

 “Don’t say that.” I snapped, extending a hand. “You can do it, Kev. Come on.”

 It was slow work, and every second passing made me more nervous and I darted worried glance around the trees. Kevin was frowning in concentration, eyes glued to the ground and taking measured steps towards me. Finally, finally, he reached the edge and I snatched up his hand, dragging him into the trees.

 “How are you going to blow it up?” Kevin managed through chattering teeth.

 I raised my crossbow and shot at the sack of apples above a stack of crates. It tore neatly and the apples began tumbling out. I had only a split second to grab Kevin’s hand and hurtle towards the forest before a deafening explosion threw us off our feet.

 Once again, I tasted dirt and bile and I felt warm blood trickling down the side of my face as I tried to orient myself. Kevin. Where was Kevin?

 He was unconscious, lying on his side, but still breathing. I was so relieved to find him alive that I ignored the pain and the ringing in my ears and hoisted him up on my back. I don’t dare stay behind. I knew the Careers would be making their way back in second now. I needed to find Jess.

 We had agreed on a specific meeting point in case we got separated, and I headed to the small clearing tucked away in a thicket of trees. My legs burned and I was bleeding, but I refused to put Kevin down for even a second.

 “Jess?” I whispered, spying the embers of a small fire. This must be Jess’ work. I tried the whistle she had taught me, the one they used in District 11 to signal the end of work.

 I found the second fire a few paces ahead and a third one even further away. I began to worry.

 “Jess?” I called out again, as loud as I dared.

 I had reached the clearing and she was not there. I was contemplating my next move as I set Kevin down against a tree; when I heard her scream pierce the air.

 “Jess!” I yelled, running as fast as I could towards the sound. “I’m coming, Jess! I’m coming!”

 “Dean!” she cried—and there! I found her! She was tangled in a net, wide-eyed and terrified.

 “It’s okay! I’m here! I’m here!” I fell to my knees, hands shaking as I ripped at the ropes with my hand.

 “Dean, watch out!” she cried, and my body moved before I registered what happened, diving to the other side. I whipped around and released an arrow, right into the stomach of Gordon, the Career from District 1. I watched as he fell, eyes wide, dead.

 “D-dean…”

 I turned to Jess, and my stomach dropped when I realized she was hit. A long spear was embedded into her stomach, and I knew, with sickening dread, that this was not a wound that you could recover from. Unbidden, my eyes began to sting.

 “Jess, oh my god.” I grabbed her and desperately pulled her close, as if I could keep her life force in if I held her tight enough. “I’m sorry, Jess. You have no idea. I’m so fucking sorry.”

 “It’s okay.” She whispered, smiling faintly. “I-it’s okay, Dean. I promise. It doesn’t hurt at all.”

 Hot tears spilled from my face and I couldn’t control them anymore, I gasped out sob.

 “Did you get ‘em?” Jess whispered. “The cornucopia. Did you…?”

 “It’s gone. We did it, Jess.” I murmured. “You were so brave. It’s all because of you. I blew it up. It’s all gone now.”

 “Good.” Jess’ expression grew fierce. “You can win this, Dean. You have to win. Promise me you’ll try.”

 And it was like Sam was in my arms, whispering the same words to me. The pain was so deep, it felt like my heart was about to stop.

 “I promise,” I whispered. “I promised Sam I would. I promise you, too. You would have liked Sam. You would have been best friends. He’d probably fall in love with you and you would be my sister, yanno?”

 “I’d have liked that.” Jess smiled faintly, her eyes roamed my face like she was trying to memorize it. “Will you pray for me, Dean?”

 “I haven’t in a long time.” I said, but I remembered the old psalms. The old prayers. I used to read them to Sam when he had nightmares. I could do it, for Jess. For Jess.

 “ _The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want._ ” I began to whisper, my voice shaky even to my own ears.

“… _He maketh me to lie down in green pastures_

_He leadeth me beside the still waters._

_He restoreth my soul_

_He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake._

_Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,_

_I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;_

_Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”_

By the time I finished, Jess had closed her eyes… but she was smiling. I choked back a scream of rage and despair and clutched her to my chest. She was so small in my arms. I shook her, trying to give her back some life that was so cruelly and unjustly taken from her. My tears marked her peaceful face, and even as I laid her body down on the grass, I was loathed to leave her like this. She wasn’t just another tribute. She was a friend.

 I gathered some flowers nearby and sat down next to her, carefully weaving them into her hair. I talked to her, giving her reassurances and kind words that was the least I could fucking do. She didn’t deserve to die like that.

 When the carriers came to retrieve her body, I stood by the trees, watching the metal claws come down and take her. I realized that the whole of capitol would have to see this, what I had done.

  _Let them see_ , I thought viciously, raising my right hand in a three fingered salute, an old symbol of honor and respect. _I’m so fucking done with this game and you scumbags better believe it._

I headed back to Kevin with fire burning in my belly. I was fucking pissed. No more Mr. Nice Guy. To my satisfaction, Kevin was already up and gingerly checking the blood on his face.

 “Dean!” He gasped when he saw me. “What’s going on? I heard the cannons. Who’s dead?”

 “Jess.” I replied tightly. “…and a tribute from District 1. Gordon.”

 “Oh,” He fell silent. “I’m sorry.”

 “We’re not going to apologize anymore, Kev.” I tell him firmly. “We’ve blown up the Career’s supply. One of them is dead. We’re on a more even playing field now. It’s time we fight back.”

 “What did you have in mind?” Kevin’s eyes were warring between fright and curiosity.  

 I look at him dead in the eye. 

“We’re going on a hunt.”


	7. Punishment

*******

 

Finding Lisa was still a priority.

I had expected Kevin to protest against wasting time and effort looking for an injured tribute, but he didn’t say a word. He simply helped me collect wood for the fire and carefully looked away as I skinned another rabbit. The fiery rage of yesterday had calmed into a burn and I almost welcomed the appearance of the Careers just so I could unleash some of the intensity. It was a good thing Kevin was a freakin’ genius.

 “If Azazel had cut her, then she would have lost a lot of blood. Impaired mobility, factoring in the surrounding environment, I think I can narrow down the parameters to a specific area.”

 I blinked. “So you can find her?”

 He huffed. “I could try.”

 “Lead the way, Kev Solo.”

 I expected another rebellious outburst to _not call_ _me that, Dean, honestly_ —and the lack of response made me turn around. Kevin was frozen, staring open-mouth at something in the distance. Immediately, I raised my weapon, stalking over to his side.

 “Holy shit.”

 She was obviously dead. We hadn’t heard a canon, and it should have gone off the moment she died; but what had us rooted to the spot was the way she looked. She was sprawled on her back, legs splayed at an awkward angle.  I vaguely recognized her face as the girl from District 4. She would have been allies with Benny. Maybe he did this. I immediately rejected the idea because Benny couldn’t have done this. The frozen expression on the girl’s face was of terror, but her eyes were dark and hollow, like they were burned out of her face.

 Kevin made a small noise beside me, and I immediately motioned for him to be quiet. Her attacker, whoever they were, could still be nearby. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine at the thought. Because hell, whatever it was, I had no idea how to stop it.

 “What did this to her?” Kevin gripped the modest stun-gun he had managed to hold on to. “Wha…what could have done such a thing? Weapons? Animals? Supernatural creatures?”

 And then it hit me.

 “Angels,” I breathed.

 Kevin jerked as if stunned.

 “That can’t be!” He snapped, eyes darting back to the dark craters of her eyes. “Angels can’t kill humans! It’s forbidden!”

 I wanted to laugh at the absurdity.

 “Are you fucking serious?”

 “I’m serious!” Kevin wrung his hands. “You don’t understand, Dean. Angels literally cannot kill, or they’d…”

Kevin swallowed, eyes flickering around nervously.

 “They’d what?” I was getting angry. How could he say something so stupid when we were here right now, fighting for our lives? “Fucking what, Kevin?”

 “Or they fall from grace.” He whispered so quietly, I doubt the cameras picked it up. “They… they lose their powers and th-they… they become…” Kevin visibly steeled himself.

 “Say it.” I say tightly, white-knuckled grip on my weapon. “They become what?”

 “…Human.” 

 I felt like I was drowning. That piece of information shouldn’t have mattered, but it fucking did. And I couldn’t help it anymore—I let out a hysterical laugh and clutched at a nearby tree for support.

 So the games were not just a sick way to show people how powerless we were. It was because they couldn’t kill us. They literally couldn’t kill us. They were making us do the dirty work for them. They had no power but somehow, they _did._

 Rage overwhelmed me and I let out a primal scream, slashing at the trees and blindly shooting my weapon. I wanted to hurt something—preferably an angel. Because while the Angels were scared of falling from grace and becoming human, I did not fear being Damned in Hell.

 I was already in it.

 “Dean!” Kevin grabbed my shoulder and I nearly clocked him on the face. “You have to calm down! We need to get out of here!”

 I finally registered the sound of footsteps approaching—fast. For a split second, something ugly in me reared up and wanted to stand ground for a fight. But Kevin’s terrified face fueled my legs to finally break out into a run. A loud sound erupted from behind us.

 “Fuck, they have guns?!” I grabbed Kevin as he stumbled. “We haven’t got time for this, keep your shit together!”

 We ran blindly, and even though I itched to turn back and face whoever it was, I knew I couldn’t abandon Kevin. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if he died. However, soon enough I realized it was too quiet.

 “Wait,” I stopped, cocking my head in suspicion. “They’re gone.”

 “We lost them?” Kevin looked around hopefully.

 “Just like that?” I could hardly believe it. “Something’s not right.”

 “Who cares?” Kevin said impatiently. “We’re not dead. Can we keep moving? I’d rather not stay here. Besides, we’re close to where Lisa should be.”

 My instincts were screaming at me, but Kevin was right. Lisa was more important. I forced myself to turn my back and follow Kevin, who had whipped out a device from his pack and was moving steadily into the trees.

 “Are you tracking her?” I said incredulously. “You can do that?”

 “No,” Kevin said impatiently, craning his neck this way and that. “But according to my calculations, she should be around this area."

The ground was muddy and our shoes made unpleasant noises, but what the heck was that sound--

 "Shh, Dean, you’re way too loud—!”

 “Have you come to finish me off?”

 We both jumped back as the ground beneath us spoke. Or, rather, it rasped. Warily, I crouched down, cocking my ear to the muddy banks of the river.

 “Lisa?” I ventured, feeling silly.

 “Right here.”

 And, to my astonishment, a pair of brown eyes blinked into existence.

 “Holy shit!” I jumped back in alarm.

 “Shh!” Kevin cried shrilly even as Lisa glared at me.

 I was too busy pawing at the ground to help her out. Somehow, she had managed to mold herself into the mud until she completely disappeared. I whistled as she slowly sat up. That was gonna be a bitch to clean up.

 “Finish me off, Dean.” She whispered in my ear as we were dragging her over to the river. “I’m weak and I can’t go on much longer. Do me a kindness and kill me now.”

 “Shut up,” I growled, pushing her into the water. “I didn’t come all this way just to kill you, you idiot.”

 Lisa was silent, and I was half afraid she was drowning, but Kevin was there, helping her scrape the mud off her hair.

 “How long were you in there?” Kevin asked her, torn between fascination and horror.

 “I don’t know. Everything became hazy after a while.” Lisa murmured, and bile rose to my throat as I realized why. Her leg—that must be where Azazel cut her—was deeply wounded and infected. Now that the mud washed off, I could see that it had already festered to a degree that didn’t look very promising.

 “We have to find shelter,” I said instead, eyeing the sun hanging low in the sky. “Kevin, grab her other side.”

 Together, we manage to carry her up some rocks and into a tiny cavern. We laid her down to rest as we hunted for firewood and something for dinner. Kevin kept glancing at me and I gritted my teeth, because I knew he was thinking of Lisa. She wasn’t going to make it.

 She had to make it.

 She seemed to be getting worse. Getting her out of the coolness of the mud, her body temperature spiked to a worrying fever and she couldn’t hold on to the soup we managed to make out of the roots we dug up for dinner. Kevin wrapped up her leg the best he could (trying not to gag at the smell) and we settled down for the night. I was exhausted but I knew someone had to keep watch.

 “I’ll stay up,” Kevin volunteered bravely, but he was swaying in his seat.

 “Nah, you go on and sleep. You can take the shift after.” I waved him off. “At least one of us should be functioning, right?”

 Kevin nodded faintly and settled himself on the ground. Soon enough, he was snoring.

 I watched the fire as I contemplated the events that had passed. Angels. Fucking Angels. If I got my hands on one, I swore to kill it. There were two angels currently in the game now. They were free for all.

 But why were they here in the first place?

 If they couldn’t kill—my mind was racing—then they couldn’t touch any of the tributes. Which meant either they were here for shits and giggles, or they would be forced to kill and lose their grace.

 This was punishment, I realized.  

 “For what?” I mumbled, eyeing the flames flickering in the dark. 

 And how do I kill one? There had to be a way.

 I looked up, eyeing the stars that were slowly winking into existence.

  _Bobby, help me out here_ , I thought fiercely _. I need kill these bastards, d’you hear me? I need to find out what kills them._

 My thoughts were interrupted by Lisa breaking into a coughing fit. I jumped to her side and worried at the blood trickling down her lips.

  _Help her_ , I pleaded in my mind. _Fuck, she can’t die like this. Please. Please._

 I sat vigil at her side until the dawn broke through the cracks in our little cave, repeating the prayer in my head.

  _Please._

_Please save her._

 


	8. Angels and Demons

**

 

“This is bad, Dean.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Kev.” I gritted my teeth, uselessly wiping at the dampness on Lisa’s face.

“She’s dying.” Kevin whimpered.

“I know that!” I beat the ground in frustration. “Goddamn it!”

“We need to move. Staying in one place for too long is highly risky—“

“Medicine.” I tore at my hair, trying to think. “At the cornucopia, among the supplies… was there medicine?”

“It’s possible.” Kevin slowly replied. “But Dean, you blew it all up—“

“There could be some left. The careers could have received some from sponsors.”

“Maybe, but Dean, the chances of that are close to none—“

“We can’t just sit here and watch her die!” I threw my hands at Lisa’s frail body, feebly fighting against a fever-induced nightmare.

“You’re right.” Kevin was as pale as a sheet. “You’re right. Shit.”

“We’ve got to at least try.”

_Or we’d never be able to live with ourselves._

“Okay.” Kevin took a shaky breath, twisting his hands. “Okay. Do you have a plan?”

“We distract them, just like last time.”

If possible, Kevin paled even more as we both remembered what happened to Jessica ‘the last time.’

“Right.” Kevin stammered. “So… I’m the distraction. I can—”

“I’ll distract them.” I interrupted, feeling my insides twist. “You’ll know the cornucopia better than I do. Find whatever you can and get out of there under five minutes.”

We talked over our plan as we made preparations to leave the cave, fetching Lisa a fresh bottle of water and changing the dressing on her wound. I managed to fashion a sort-of curtain from leaves and branches so the opening of the cave could be partially hidden from view. It was crude, but it did the job.

We chose to set off closer to sun-set. Escaping in the dark would be advantageous for us since I had managed to hold on to my dark-vision goggles. Kevin looked like he was going to fall over any moment, so I avoided talking to him. That was the only reason I managed to spot the daggers flying with deadly accuracy towards our heads.

“Run!” I cried, pushing Kevin out of the way.

Adrenalin pumped through my veins as we burst through the forest, a high-pitched laugh piercing the air, hot on our trails.

Lilith.

Even without Azazel, she was a Career and she was lethal. I managed to barely avoid another dagger, as it sliced against my arm. Fuck.

It was Kevin’s strangled cry that made me turn around. I watched him crumple to his knees and the scream barely left my mouth before I was knocked over and Lilith had me straddled with a knife digging against my neck.

“Well, well, well…” She had a high-pitched, nasal sort of voice that made my skin crawl. “Little Winchester finally come out to play.”

I took the opportunity to spit on her face. She retaliated by dragging the knife onto the right half of my face, nearly taking out my eye. I bit my lip to hold in the scream.

“Naughty.” Lilith clucked her tongue. “I’d kill you now but Azazel had been wanting to wring your little neck for sooooo long. I think I’ll wrap you up and give you to him as a present. He’ll love that, I’m sure.”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself,” I managed to rasp, blood pooling into my mouth.

I was just bracing myself against a blow to the face, when suddenly, her head jerked up and I saw a flash of black fill her eyes. A rush of breath escaped me as I realized—

I renewed my struggle, kicking to get away, repulsed to my very core. Everyone was a fucking supernatural creature. I was so out of my depth.

“Step away from the human, demon.”

The hairs on my neck stood up at the cool, alien voice—deafening, like the silence in a forest. From the mouth of the trees, a figure stood as still as a statue, only the fluttering of a tan coat betraying any movement.

I recognized those blue eyes.

“What’s an angel doing, meddling in the games?” Lilith spat, but I could hear the tremble in her voice.

She was afraid.

“I have seen your soul, demon. It is warped and twisted, like the roots of a gnarled tree. You have tormented that vessel long enough. Leave.”

Lilith threw her head back in a nightmarish laugh.

“You angels! Always so high on your little horse! You think you’re so much better than us but you’re in a fucking meat-suit, too!”

And suddenly, Castiel was there, grabbing Lilith by the head in an iron grip.

“We were given full consent to use this vessel in His name. Do not compare us to your likes, _demon_.”

“Azazel!” Lilith began to scream, grappling desperately against the hands that held her captive. “AZAZEL!”

I smelled smoke, the acrid smell of flesh burning, and nearly gagged. Light—strange, powerful, blinding light—began to shine from the angel, and I could only close my eyes as the heat washed over me, prickling my skin with electricity and sheer _power._

Lilith’s screams were drowned by the high-pitch ringing in my ears.

For a split second, I thought I saw Dad. His face was solemn and his mouth was moving, he was saying something… but I couldn’t hear him.

_Dad…?_

And the world was filled with white light.

I must have lost consciousness, because when I finally came to, I was on my back, heavy warmth seeping through my shoulder. It only took a flash of memory for my eyes to snap open, body surging to escape. Lilith—where was Lilith—

“She is gone.”

I registered the words just as my eyes fell on the prone form lying on the ground. Lilith was frozen in a scream, her eyes burned hollow and still smoking. I threw up a little in my mouth.

“Get away from me!” I managed scramble away from the ground, brandishing a knife—the same one Lilith used to carve my face.

The angel slowly rose from the ground, a serene expression on his face.

“Peace, Dean Winchester.”

“Stay back.” I threatened, despite feeling very unthreatening in the face of a fucking angel. “Don’t you come any closer.”

The angel slowly raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender.

“You can trust me, Dean.”

I was shaking, and hearing my name fall from his mouth made blood curl.

_“Why should I?”_

“Because I will not hurt you.”

“Bullshit.” I snarled, gripping my knife tighter. “If you want to do me a favor, turn around and disappear.”

 _Or drop dead_ , I thought savagely.

“You need my help.”

“Fuck you.”

“She isn’t going to last much longer.”

It felt like a cold bucket of ice thrown over my head.

 _Lisa_ , screamed my head. _He meant Lisa!_

The next thing I knew, my body was moving and I slammed my blade as hard as I could into his chest. We stared at each other, closer than we’ve ever been, until he slowly raised his hand and began to withdraw the knife from his chest. There wasn’t even any blood.

“Shit,” I backed away, horrified. “Shit. Fuck.”

“You cannot kill me with this, Dean.” He said calmly, dropping the knife. “You cannot hurt me. Please, listen. I mean you no harm.”

“What about Kevin?” I whispered bitterly.

“I will not harm anyone.” He promised solemnly.

I clutched at my bleeding arm, glaring at him.

“…why?”

“Because I do not want to.” He replied, like it was so simple. “I want to help you. Bring me to the girl.”

Nothing made sense anymore. “Where’s the other one?” I was grasping at straws, backed into a corner. “The other angel.”

“I am alone.”

It’s not as if I had much of a choice. I knew that if he had wanted me dead, he could kill me. But he wouldn’t… because he wasn’t allowed to kill humans. He could still have hurt me and left me to die. He said he wanted to help. I nearly scoffed at the word.

 _But Lisa’s dying,_ I reminded myself. _She needs a miracle_.

“This way,” I finally turned, hunching into myself as I exposed my back to vulnerability. I found Kevin unconscious on the ground and tried to swallow my hiss of pain as I bore his weight onto my injured side.

I didn’t notice him moving until an inhumanly hot hand wrapped itself around my arm. But he was there, and I was helpless to do anything but tense as he slowly raised a finger and touched my forehead. My nose tickled with the scent of metal and lightning, and the warmth from his hand spread through my face and out towards my body like liquid gold. I stared down at unblemished skin, as if it hadn’t met the wrath of a sharp blade just moments ago.

A bewildered “Thanks,” slipped out, and I scowled immediately. “I mean, you didn’t have to do that.”

He did not say anything but I lowered my eyes anyway. His eyes were the most intense blue I had ever seen. Eerie.  _Inhuman._

Even as we inched closer and closer to where we left Lisa, my mind rebelled, kicking and screaming that this was a terrible idea. I knew it—damn, my body knew it—it was vibrating with the need to run as far as possible from the supernatural creature shadowing me—but where the hell does one run from an angel? I knew, deep down, that the moment he appeared, I was at his mercy. If he wanted me dead, there was nothing I could do. And Lisa… either way, she would be dead by the end of the day.

When we reached the cave, darkness had already settled and I was half-afraid that we were too late. Her breathing was alarmingly slow and even I could see that there was barely any life force left in her. Heat prickled my eyes in frustration.

“Lisa,” I whispered; her frail body was nothing in my arms.

He stood against the mouth of the cave, glowing mysteriously and looking every part the celestial being. I broke down and began to plead.

“Please help her. She’s… she’s innocent. She doesn’t deserve to die.”

When I was younger, back when Dad was still alive, I once sneaked off and followed mom into an old building by the market, where she disappeared to every Sunday morning. There, I watched a wrinkled man talking kindly to a huddled crowd of miserable miners. There were maybe twenty of them, gathered in a dark, dirty room with no windows or enough chairs to sit on.

I remember breathing in the stale air and being startled into silence at the strange serenity that surrounded the room; like a bubble, centered around the man, who sat hunched over an upturned barrel. He had raised his hand, touching a quietly crying woman gently on the head and murmuring words I could not hear. I was only four, but I remembered the scene with stark clarity—the strong emotion swirling inside me.

The same, intangible emotion filled me now as the angel knelt before me, slowly reaching outstretched hands and laying them gently—so gently—upon Lisa’s head.

The same, white light began to shine from him and I was once again helpless to close my eyes.

Maybe it was because I was so near angelic energy, or maybe it was the day’s events catching up to me, but I could feel the weariness settling deep into my bones. I felt my world sinking into darkness as my ears filled with white noise, and the feeling of falling deeper and deeper into memories of warm laughter and the feel of something soft brushing against my cheek on a midsummer evening.


End file.
